despising the homeless...

[Books and journals and articles and blogs that act like they have everything figured out sucks, and I don't really have to explain that much because we all don't like a Mr. KnowItAll. That being said, if you read this, you might be left searching, and I'm ok with that.]

I had a fantastic weekend, but a new thought/feeling/sensation or whatever it may be came across my brain, and its affect was not favorable and I'm very curious why such a thought would even cross my path. It felt, and currently feels, like one of those obscure dreams, where you wake up saying, "where did that dream come from?" or "why would I even dream such a thing?"

Saturday was amazing because I had the opportunity to volunteer at the New Orleans Mission. We helped their ministry by serving a special Thanksgiving meal for the homeless. Some of our attenders from HIMnI helped at this event, including myself, and I was glad to see an abundance of volunteers. There were so many volunteers that I found myself being most useful by having conversations with the homeless as they stood in line outside.

I had a video camera for a short while (you should be able to see the video soon after our December HIMnI on our website), and this one homeless guy asked me if I got everyone's permission to film them. I told him that unfortunately I hadn't. He then asked me if I thought it would be ok if someone came and punched me in the mother f#*@&ing face for filming them. I told him I'd be up to the challenge (don't really know what that meant at the time; I just blurted something out in order to give the appearance that I'm hardcore yo). He then said, now what if I punch you in the mother f*%#$ing face? I said that wouldn't be such a good idea, but you're welcome to it. And that was the end of our conversation.

We talked again about an hour later and everything was cool.

Homeless people are fun, full of grief and sorrow which isn't fun, but always full of honesty which is why I say they are fun. I'm just glad someone was honest enough to say they wanted to punch me in the face. I'm sure he hasn't been the first. In truth, I think this conversation was a foreshadow of things to come, except God's doing the punching this time around.

Anyways, we helped for a couple hours on Saturday and it brought me great satisfaction.

We also had a Thanksgiving meal at our church for Sunday lunch. For some reason I told our core team that I would make a green bean casserole and a sweet potato casserole. I did make both of them, but making casseroles sure does stress me out. I spent a couple hours this morning making them, and I was extremely proud of my green bean casserole, but wasn't feeling too confident about my sweet potato casserole. My electric mixer broke and I had to mash the sweet potatoes with a fork, which is no fun at all. I can see now why most men stick to grilling meat, because casseroles are just frustrating and exhausting.

So we had this huge Thanksgiving spread full of turkey and stuffing and casseroles and it was great seeing everyone eat as a family. We had some really strange people eat with us, and it made me think about genuine hospitality in the local church. I began to wonder if these people would feel welcome in most churches, or if these people would just get strange looks. There was this one man who dressed like a woman, and he was really nice and I'm glad I got to meet him, but it made me wonder if all churches would accept him the way he is. I began to wonder if the church really believes and practices the title of that popular invitational hymn, "Just As I Am," and I wonder why I was allowed to come to Jesus that way but I prevent others coming to Jesus in the same manner.

As I think about this tonight, I've also started thinking about why I despised some of the homeless today.

We had two people come in after the service, and our policy at Vieux Carre' has always been to only welcome those who will participate with us on Sunday morning. My pastor, however, has a generous heart, and decided to make some plates of food for these people who showed up late.

My initial reaction...

This isn't right.

I actually looked at them and began to despise them for freeloading. At Vieux Carre', our only expectation for those who live on the streets is that they would treat us and everyone else like family when they're in the walls of our church. We will always do our best to love the unlovable and the difficult, but we still try to emphasize love and respect in everything.

Needless to say, I still despised them for freeloading, and I soon discovered I was contradicting the very principles our church is trying to proclaim.

It's hit me pretty hard this afternoon, and I've been mulling it over in my head for quite some time, but I just don't understand why I began to despise the homeless today. I know God has forgiven me already for such a heinous thought, and I'm grateful that He's teaching me how to extend my compassion, but I still don't understand why such a thought would enter my mind. It goes way beyond my sinful nature, something more...

Hmm, I definitely gonna be thinking about this for a while. And I really hope God uses this to make me resemble Christ more, because my thoughts weren't in line with my actions, and we all know that makes a man a hypocrite and a liar, and no one wants to be that.

So I guess what I'm saying is...

Go ahead God, do your thing. You know me better than I know me, so please make sense of my heart and my mind for me, because I don't understand.

You know that thing that you do where you have something dirty and you make it clean? I like that trick. Could you do it again please?